


London, 1955

by MotherLilith



Series: Being Human Christmas Specials [3]
Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: 1950s, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Blood, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Christmas, Depression, F/M, Graphic Description of Corpses, Heavy Angst, Internalized Homophobia, London, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Period-Typical Sexism, Religion, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherLilith/pseuds/MotherLilith
Summary: It's December 1955, and Cutler is still depressed about Hal leaving him. Fergus decides to take him out to cheer him up.
Relationships: Fergus (Being Human UK)/Original Female Character(s), Nick Cutler/Fergus (if you choose to read it that way), Nick Cutler/Hal Yorke, Nick Cutler/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Being Human Christmas Specials [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040234
Kudos: 5





	London, 1955

**Author's Note:**

> This one was a lot darker than I thought it was going to be, but I guess Nick's whole (un) life is pretty tragic right? Still Christmas themed, but heavy on the angst.

Cutler stepped outside and smelt the polluted fog of coal smoke hanging in the air. He hated the city at this time of year, always had. Even when he was still human. It was bitterly cold, and the wind seemed to blow right through him. He might as well have been a ghost drifting through the streets. No one saw him, he was just another face in the crowd.

Around him, streams of Christmas shoppers flowed from the golden light of department stores out into the darkness. They were so warm, their faces flushed with blood. He felt tension in his body pulling him taut like a wire. He hadn’t been out much, and had almost forgotten what it was like, to be around so many people. So many noisy, vibrant, happy people. Only vampires could understand how difficult it was to be in crowds. All that blood pumping around you, separated only by a thin layer of skin which could so easily be torn away.

He felt his thirst rising and took a few deep breaths through his mouth to calm down, trying not to inhale the scent. Christ, he thought he’d got over this by now. But no matter how many times he found himself in situations like this, he always reacted the same.

Think of them as individuals, he thought. Not a homogeneous sea of flesh, but people with husbands, wives, houses. Jobs and dogs and children. Human things.

But the words rang hollowly as if they had lost all meaning. It was no use; the thirst was almost overwhelming. He broke away from them and turned down a side street. Luckily, it worked out to be a shortcut and soon he was at the place they were to meet. He looked up at the sign above the grotty old pub which read, ‘The Harp’.

Cutler pushed open the door and was immediately greeted with the smell of stale beer and fag smoke. He looked around the pub for the other man and spotted him in a corner chatting to two girls.

“Ah, here he is,” Fergus said, as Cutler approached the table. “Ladies, let me introduce you to my friend. This is Mr Nick Cutler, solicitor.”

Nick looked the two girls over. They were both pretty, but the dark haired one was clearly drunk judging from her bleary eyes and the way she was sitting on Fergus’s lap. The other was younger and blonde, though there was some resemblance. Sisters? She smiled at him, a little shyly. There was a small glass of mulled wine in front of her.

“Nice to meet you, ladies. I trust that my friend is keeping you entertained?”

The dark-haired girl giggled. “Your mate’s a bloody joker all right, but he makes for a good time.”

Fergus leered at her. “Well, if you’re after a good time…”

She laughed, “Oy! Watch it you. I’ll have you know that I’m a respectable lady.”

Nick sat down in the empty chair and lit a cigarette. He didn’t have much patience for this sort of thing, but Fergus had been badgering him all week to come out.

He’d turned up at Cutler’s flat completely unexpectedly, on what he later worked out was Monday morning. Cutler would have to remember to get his key back. Fergus had woken him up by kicking him. He'd passed out on the floor again, surrounded by empty bottles.

“You can’t sulk forever,” Fergus had said. “So, Lord Harry’s disappeared. So what? It’s not like this is the first time this has happened.”

Cutler rubbed his bloodshot eyes and felt them burning. His nails were dirty, and his fingers sticky with gin.

“But what the hell are we supposed to do now? What about the dogs?”

“Forget the dogs. Leopold’s driven Herrick off, and he says to get cleaned up and do your bloody job.” He looked at Cutler’s dishevelled hair and the rumpled clothes he’d been wearing for several days. “Look at yourself. You’re a mess, kid. It’s been six months, time to get yourself together. You’re becoming a liability.”

Fergus was right, Cutler thought after he left. He was a liability. Without Hal, he really didn’t see the point in any of it. Why bother to cover up after the others? He really didn’t give a toss about any of them, and he wasn’t scared of bloody Leopold. So what if the humans found out about them? Part of him almost wanted it to happen. He was so tired of all the lying and secrecy. He just wanted to wipe it all away, to forget everything that had happened in the last five years. Maybe then he’d finally be able to sleep alone in his cold bed, and there wouldn’t be this deep ache in his chest where his living heart should be.

But what if Hal came back? He didn’t want his maker to think that he couldn’t look after himself without him. No, he would show him by keeping going, and one of these days he’d make him proud. Become a History Maker.

He’d gathered up the bottles and dropped them into the bin. Then he’d run himself a bath.

Now he looked at the girl across the table from him, her blonde curls bouncing as she talked. Christ, he wasn’t in the mood for this, but he was making an effort to be polite. She seemed to like him, so he didn’t have to do much. He couldn’t remember her name. ‘A’ something. Was it Amy? Agnes? Too late to ask now. She was saying something about her family.

“My dad’s Polish, so we have this special Christmas wafer every year called 'Oplatek'. It’s got the whole nativity scene on it, it’s amazing.”

Perfect. Catholicism on a biscuit, Cutler thought. That would give him a right headache.

He smiled.

“What a lovely tradition. But you know, I’m not very religious these days.”

The girl’s face fell. “What, really? Don’t you go to church?”

“Not for the last few years.”

“Oh…well, that’s a shame. My cousin’s the same, though. Ever since the war, he won’t take mass. Says he’s worried about bombs falling on the church. I told him, Milosz, the war’s been over for ten years, but he won’t listen to a word I say”.

Cutler was grateful when Fergus set a beer down on the table in front of him. He hadn’t known how to respond to that remark. Though it had only been ten years, 1945 was quite literally a lifetime ago. He was even starting to forget what it was like, before everything that had happened.

Before Hal.

He felt the thirst rising in his throat and took a swig of his beer. It didn’t help. In fact, it only made him thirstier.

Across the table, Fergus was kissing the girl on his lap, and she was returning his affections shamelessly.

Well, he supposed he should do the same. The girl, Anna? Ada? wasn’t bad looking, after all. His hand brushed her arm, and then he was kissing her lips. Hesitantly, at first. She blushed and giggled, a little embarrassed and then she was kissing him back. She tasted sweet, like the mulled wine she’d been drinking. He leaned into her, kissing her neck and almost tasting the hot, rich blood, so tantalisingly close. When was the last time he’d fed?

He was glad when he felt Fergus’ hand shaking his shoulder. He pulled back, keeping his eyes closed, as darkness stirred behind them.

“Listen, the pub’s closing soon. How about we go back to my friend’s place for a nightcap?”, Fergus suggested slyly. “Come on, it’s not far.”

The girl’s looked at one another and sealed their fate with a shrug.

*

Cutler woke up to see the girl lying next to him on the bed. She was naked, and cold. He withdrew his blood smeared arm from around her, sober enough to feel disgust at sharing a bed with a corpse.

Was this it then? Alone for the next fifty years, a hundred years, a thousand years? The vast, emptiness of time filled only briefly by blood and tepid lust? Why had Hal made him this _thing_ , only to abandon him?

Cutler threw on a dressing gown and walked into the living room. Through the window, he saw white flakes falling from the sky like ash.

He heard footsteps and turned to see Fergus fully nude except for the blood covering his body. In some sick way, he found the sight arousing.

Fergus bent down to where the dark-haired girl lay on the sofa. He stuck his fingers into the mess that remained of her neck and licked the blood from them.

The man made a face. “I think she’s gone off.”

“Already?”

“They don’t last long, even in winter.”

Cutler looked back out of the window. He should be cold, he realised, but the warmth of the blood numbed him to all sensation.

Fergus looked at his sad expression.

“Christ, you’re still so gloomy. I thought this would cheer you up.”

“Leave off, Fergus.”

“He’s not coming back, you know.”

“Just fuck off and leave me alone.”

Fergus threw up his hands exasperatedly.

“Don’t know why I bother. It’s not as if I ever get any thanks from you.”

He turned to leave.

“Happy Christmas, by the way”

“Right. Happy bloody Christmas.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've read a lot of Hal fics set in 1955, so I guess I was wondering what it would be like for Nick after he left. Hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment!


End file.
